| Adapt
|
| Submit
|
| Your thoughts are not your own
|
| Defined by fear
|
| Your relish in the role of victim
|
| You really think I’ll let you get away?
|
| I might be bruised and bleeding
|
| Long forgotten
|
| One foot in the grave
|
| Stand up
|
| Stand down
|
| I’ll cut you at the knees
|
| There’s always a place to run to
|
| But doesn’t pride slow your feet?
|
| Time has forsaken me
|
| Go live your mundane life and never look back
|
| I’m still alive
|
| You should have let me die
|
| So goddamn ripe for the taking
|
| Your aims not true when you’re shaking
|
| No need to dwell in what made me feel safe
|
| My fire for you burned me
|
| Yet left alive
|
| A blackening stain
|
| Ripped apart
|
| An open heart
|
| Downed pray for carrion flocks
|
| Don’t try to pick out my eyes
|
| By my hand you’ll surely die
|
| Have you ever felt like you’ll die all alone?
|
| A black premonition that your life’s been sold?
|
| Some cruel puppet master broke your soul
|
| Ripped out your ten dollar heart of gold
|
| All falling down
|
| Burning leaves
|
| Put the fire with all our dreams
|
| How can I tear you out and not bleed?
|
| How can an open wound sustain me?
|
| I’ve been here for days…
|
| There’s always a place to run to
|
| Yet the places keep getting smaller and smaller |